A Matter of Manners
by Artemis Day
Summary: Once, she was the most admired and sought after lady on the block. Now, she's just another maid. If having to work on her hands and knees wasn't bad enough, working for one Anthony Edward Stark and getting used to his maddening ways is going to be the death of Virginia Potts. It should be more than expected that one day, she will break. Regency AU.


**A/N: Written for musamihi as part of MCU AU Fest Round Three on AO3.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Once upon a time, a woman named Virginia Potts was the envy of all who knew her, and the object of every man's affections. She was born to a wealthy family; beautiful, intelligent, but most of all, impeccably well-mannered. In her pinky finger alone, she held more grace and sophistication than most of her peers had in their whole bodies.

It would therefore come as a great surprise to all of them to find her scrubbing the floors in the foyer of a large countryside home, her face splotched with grime and her fingers calloused.

Of course, none could have expected that her father's business partner would turn out to be a ne'er do well drunk with a perchance for gambling, but such was life.

The real twist in the tale of Virginia Potts's life was more related to whom she was under the employ of. If someone had told her ten years ago that the bookish young man who had tended her father's horses would one day earn tremendous wealth by introducing new innovations to the steam printing press, she would have laughed. That boy had always been far more concerned with posturing and trying to get the attention of the governess next door. The very idea that one day, she would be working for him was absurd.

"Pepper, would you mind bringing me my paper?"

She smacked her hand on the table she'd been wiping, and thought for a moment of how her mother would've scolded her.

"Yes, sir," she said tightly. She dropped the rag in the water bucket and started for the coffee table.

"My slippers, too."

His slippers were right next to the couch where he enjoyed his wine. He could have easily reached out and grabbed them himself.

"Yes, _sir_."

"And Pepper?"

" _Yes?_ "

He turned away from his book, removing reading glasses he didn't need and running fingers down stubbled cheeks as if deep in thought.

"You look very nice today."

Someday, she would kill him in his sleep.

* * *

Perhaps the worst part about working for Tony Stark was the nicknames. Granted, the one Virginia had been saddled with was fairly tame compared to what the rest of the staff got.

"Good morning, Stars and Stripes," he greeted Mr. Rogers, the coachman, before his afternoon ride through the park.

"Hope your day is going well, Birdman," he said to Mr. Barton, the head cook, while grabbing an afternoon snack.

"Okay, Tiny, today we're getting into some really advanced work," he told his apprentice, young Mr. Parker, as they left to spend the next twelve hours at the workshop.

Just about the only way to get Tony Stark to acknowledge your proper identity was to make friends with him, and it never ceased to amaze Virginia Potts that at least two people managed to withstand his patented 'charm' long enough to be called such. The second part of every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for Virginia involved waiting by the gates for a pair of carriages to drive up. Out of the first one came a well dressed man with a kind face, his eyes hooded like he had some dark secret hovering over him. The second carried a young woman, her clothes fashionable, but only just. To the commoner on the street, she was no less stately than the other women of her class. To those who knew better, she was the epitome of bad taste, and only her delicately beautiful looks could save her from spinsterhood. Good thing she never cared for such matters as a stylish wardrobe or attracting suitors.

"Good afternoon, Lord Banner, Lady Foster," Virginia greeted them with her head bowed.

"Nice to see you again, Pepper," Lord Banner said politely, and if it wasn't for that (and the fact that it would cost her her job) Virginia would have screamed.

Tony used that horrible nickname so much that everyone else was picking it up!

"Bruce! Jane! About time you got here." The so-called master of the household was his typical jovial self today. He had on his casual coat, but it was utterly immaculate and he hadn't a hair out of place. "Come on in, we have a lot to talk about. By the way, Jane, how's your map coming along?"

"Quite well," said Lady Foster. "We'll have a perfect view of Canis Major tonight, so I think I can finish the southern hemisphere so long as the weather stays in our favor. Unfortunately, the lens of my best telescope is scuffed, so I'll have to clean it before nightfall if I want to see it properly."

"You're free to borrow one of mine," said Lord Banner.

"Thank you, Bruce, but I think I can manage," Lady Foster said. "How goes your studies? I hear you're presenting your theories at Oxford next month."

Lord Banner looked away from his tea, a blush tinting his cheeks.

"Yes, well, that's if these stodgy old cods are willing to listen. They seem to think that physics have no place in our new 'modern' world. Not so modern when new improvements to current technology pop up every day."

"That's why they need people like us," said Tony. He was not partaking in tea, not that he ever did. No sir, a real man like Tony would settle for no less than the finest scotch. Even midday on a Sunday. "To keep mankind moving forward into a new age. Picture this for me: a carriage that runs without horses, completely of its own volition."

Lady Foster smiled, not bothering to hold back a laugh. There again was something Virginia's mother would have never condoned. A lady did not dare so much as show her teeth, let alone give the full bellied guffaws that Lady Foster unleashed.

"I've never heard of such a thing, Tony."

"You will," said Tony. "I guarantee that as soon as the next century, horse drawn carriages will be a thing of the past."

"Well, if anyone is… _ambitious_ enough to attempt such a thing, it would be you, Tony," said Lord Banner.

Ambitious. That's not precisely the word Virginia would have used.

She wanted to scoff, but she was dusting the mantle and in full view of Tony and his guests. She'd have to wait until it was time to clean and set the dining room table. Then maybe she'd even give a laugh or two.

Loud, ugly ones.

With her teeth showing.

She daydreamed of her moment of blessed self-indulgence as conversation moved away from scientific pursuits and onto more 'lighter' subjects.

"So, I guess we'll all see each other at the party next week," said Lord Banner.

Tony brushed off a second bite of his scone and looked up. Crumbs were stuck to his beard, and he wiped them off with his _hand_ of all things.

"Sorry, what this about a party?"

"At the Odinson household," said Lady Foster. "You remember. Duke Odinson's eldest son is celebrating his engagement. It's been the talk of the town for weeks."

"And of course, you are the first to know all the latest gossip, Jane," said Tony.

A good-natured smile graced Lady Foster's features.

"You know that my family has been close to theirs for many years. I am one of the first to hear these things."

"If you don't mind me saying so," said Lord Banner, "I'm surprised to see how nonchalant you are."

"Whyever so?"

"It's just that we always believed you would be the one to marry Thor."

"Me?" Lady Foster spoke as if the very idea was akin to asking one to grow another head. "Oh no, Thor is a dear friend, but not someone I would wish to marry."

"Jane will be an Odinson someday regardless," said Tony with a lecherous grin. "She just happens to enjoy a different kind of fellow. More of a tall, dark, and handsome type."

Forget everything else that had happened so far. Forget about the clothes and the appalling manners and the crude speech thrown around. This exchange right here, from beginning to end, from Tony's blase comments of the romantic life of a woman while in her presence to Lady Foster's complete lack of shame in turning a deeper shade of red than one could reasonably manage and laughing out loud again. _Again_. This was what would kill Virginia's mother. She'd be in hysterics, crying out in indignant rage at the offensive lack of etiquette among the three. Never would she silence until either they vowed to change their ways or her heart gave out, and Virginia doubted very much that Tony Stark would ever change.

It was times like this Virginia wondered why she put so much stock into what her mother thought. The woman had been dead for ten years and had always kept her social engagements a higher priority than her motherly duties.

No matter. Right now, Virginia had to set this decorative pot back down before the tension in her muscles caused her to squeeze a dent into it.

"I know who Bruce will be escorting," Tony said, now turning to Lord Banner. "Looking forward to receiving another wedding invitation."

"I'm not so sure that will ever happen," said Lord Banner sadly. "Earl Ross is not fond of me. He doesn't believe me suitable for his daughter."

"That old man has gotten far too big for his britches. You're a perfect match for Betty. You're young, able-bodied, in good health, you are respected in the community and you bring in a hefty yearly salary. He'd be the biggest idiot in the world not to want you as a son-in-law."

"Well, what about you, Tony?" asked Lady Foster, and Lord Banner did not hide his look of gratitude at her for having diverted Tony's attention. "We haven't heard yet whom you'll be escorting to the party."

"I think I'll go solo this time," said Tony, resting back casually like he was the Prince Regent himself. "I doubt I'll have trouble finding company once I get there."

"Because the only way you can catch a lady's eye is by making sure their inhibitions have been substantially lowered."

Virginia shook her head as she thought this. She'd finished up the last of the polishing, and the ornate mirror on the wall had never before shined so brightly, unmarred by dust or finger stains. It was the kind of work she remembered from her childhood. Only the very best was accepted in the Potts household, and anything less was grounds for dismissal. The maids had been most diligent in making sure that hers and every other room was spotless. It was thankless, back breaking work, as she now knew all too well. It was especially bad when in the presence of a trio of ruffians playing proper folk.

Ruffians who were… strangely quiet all of a sudden.

At least a minute had gone by since one of Tony's uncouth remarks or Lady Foster and Lord Banner's aloof enabling of said remarks. So far, this was the longest they'd gone without a word. Not even the clinking of fine china could be heard. It was as if they'd all frozen. Virginia turned her head and found herself freezing up. It was hard not to with three sets of eyes planted squarely on her, two of which appeared to be wide with shock and even fear. It was the third set that Virginia was most taken with. Tony wore a look of appraisal that she recognized only from the day he he hired her. Like she was a new puzzle to solve, or an experiment to be conducted.

It was then that Virginia realized she had not spoken quite as softly as she'd intended.

"What do you mean by that?" Tony asked.

Virginia lowered her head, her hands clasped before her in a show of submission.

"Forgive me, sir. I spoke out of turn."

"No, but what did you mean?" Tony stood. He was not the tallest man she had seen, but Virginia still felt so small. "You think I couldn't get an escort if I wanted one?"

"That isn't for me to say, sir," said Virginia. "It's not my place."

"Says who?" Tony sauntered up to her. "Society? Some badly dressed old guys who think they know better than everyone else? I hired you to work in my house, and in my house, their word doesn't matter. So go ahead, tell me what you really think."

Virginia couldn't decide if that was a challenge or not. It was impossible to ever tell what Tony Stark was thinking, because any serious words of his could be a quip in disguise, and words spoken in jest might have been born of a secret pain kept buried deep within him. Even in their youth, he'd been much the same. Some sort of conflict between him and his father, she believed. He had left to make his fortune before Virginia could find out more.

"Sir," Virginia said, struggling to keep her breathing steady, "that is not how a servant is supposed to conduct herself."

"And?" He shrugged his shoulders, and the action loosened a few crumbs that had been lodged within the inner linings of his jacket.

Virginia's eyes followed them. They rolled down his jacket, passed his pants, to the side of his shoe on the floor she had spent the whole morning cleaning.

Something deep within her snapped.

"Would you like to know what I think, Mr. Stark? Truly?" She ground her teeth. To hell with her mother. "I think that you are undoubtedly the most uncivilized man I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. I think you are an oafish, pig-headed boor of a man, and I find it hard to believe that you could have achieved even half of your success without engaging in some manner of illegal dealings. In fact, the only other way I can imagine it is because everyone you have ever worked with becomes so exasperated having to deal with you that they simply handed you gold by the sacks as a bribe so that you would leave them in peace. You may think you have changed from the boy who cleaned up after my father's prized stallion, but I can assure you, you have not. If anything, you have gotten worse."

Her chest ached from the pounding of her heart, but Virginia barely felt it over the easing tension in her back. Her whole being felt lighter as she let out all the negativity she had been filled with since the start of her life here. The moment passed and bliss became horror as it hit her just how grievously she had insulted her employer. If he threw her out now, it would be more than she deserved. If he kept her on, but only gave her the most menial tasks to demean her for the rest of her days, it would be a mercy. A scullery maid had once dropped a tea cup and broke it during one of her mother's dinner parties. Virginia never saw her again. Perhaps now she'd find out just what had become of her.

Lady Foster and Lord Banner were in a state of their own, still seated and twisting all the way around. They appeared torn between aghast and wanting a better treat to watch the spectacle with.

And Mr. Stark had yet to say a word. Virginia wish he would do it already. Get it over with.

"Ms. Potts," he said, and Virginia cringed. He hadn't called her Ms. Potts in ages. "I have just one question for you."

She closed her eyes and waited. An apology now was too little too late and might only make things worse for her. Best to just take her punishment with dignity. If she had nothing else left, she had that.

"Will you please…" Tony took a step closer. "...go to the party with me?"

Virginia's eyes snapped open. She blinked. Lady Foster's mouth had fallen all the way down and Virginia was sure she saw a pest fly in.

"Wh-what?" She shook her head. "I don't think I heard you right."

"Did you hear me ask you to be my escort?"

"Yes."

"Then you heard right. So is that a yes, you'll do it?"

"Yes… wait, no. Mr. Stark, you can't bring a _maid_ as an escort to a party!"

"Why not?"

"Because.. Because it isn't done!"

"Says who?"

"Says everyone!"

"I thought we made it clear that I don't care what everyone else does. This is what I do. I'd like nothing more than to have you on my arm when I enter the party. So will you do it?"

This was all happening too fast. Virginia hadn't been to a party since her family went under. That was so long ago. She couldn't remember what it was like to dress up, to have her hair done and her clothes put on her by at least two sets of hands. She could barely even remember what those horrible pinching shoes had felt like. How could she be expected to become the portrait of refinement she once was when her body had lost its natural curvature due to heavy labor and her hands looked like they were made of tanned leather?

And then there was the fact that _she was still his servant._

"Mr. Stark, I don't think you are altogether aware of what you are asking," she said. She was suddenly very conscious how have unkempt she was. "First of all… why would you ever want me?"

"Well, who wouldn't want to have the most beautiful woman around?" he asked, then he glanced back at his friends. "No offense, Jane."

"That's quite all right, Tony."

"But Mr, Stark, this is absolutely unheard of," Virginia cried.

"So was steam printing until just a few years ago. Now look where we are." Tony motioned around them at the massive estate steam printing had bought him. He lost his smile and gave Virginia what had to be his most serious face. "If you really want to know, I'm asking for the same reason I hired you. You're the one person I can count on to be completely honest with me. I _have_ noticed all those times you roll your eyes when I'm starting to go a little crazy. That's how I know it's time to sit down and think about what I'm doing. You keep me grounded, Pep. I don't think you even know all the ways you do."

She couldn't speak a word, not as her throat closed and her body turned wooden. Her arms were straight at her side, fists still clenched. Her nails were stubby, saving her from drawing blood. Tony stood back to await her response. He no longer seemed to care that they had an audience or that anyone, servant or business partner alike, could walk through the door and see this high ranking individual propositioning his own maid. The kind of scandal this could potentially create was staggering it. It could destroy Tony Stark's reputation. It could get her branded as a wanton whore trying to sleep her way back to the top. It could open them both up to a lifetime of ridicule and scorn.

It could…

"I don't even have a dress," Virginia said weakly.

The simple fact of the matter was that Tony Stark was impossible to deny, no matter what.

"Jane," Tony said, not looking away from Virginia. "Would you mind going with Pepper to the dress shop?"

"You want me to help her choose a dress?" Lady Foster asked.

"Of course not. I want _her_ to help _you_ ," said Tony. "You cannot expect Loki to propose if you show up looking like that. Pepper here knows what she's doing with current fashion trends. If she happens to have some extra coins to get herself something, too, that would be fair."

He returned to the couch and selected another scone. He ate it much more delicately than the first. "I'll exempt you from your responsibilities for the week. That should give you time to get ready."

"But if I don't work, who will do my tasks?"

"Don't worry about it," Tony said. "Just make sure you turn every head next week. That shouldn't be hard for you."

Virginia couldn't help it. She laughed out loud.

"Mr. Stark, you are…" she shook her head and turned away.

"I'm what?" Tony asked. "Come on, we've talked about this. Tell me."

"Impossible, sir," Virginia said finally. "You are the most impossible man I've ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, because of course he would.

"And while we're on the subject," Virginia said, facing him again, "I would like it if you stopped calling me 'Pepper', sir."

"I understand," said Tony with a solemn nod. "Well, Pepper, I think you should be getting yourself cleaned up right now. You and Jane need to finish at the dress shop before sundown. No time to dawdle."

He grinned an infectious grin, and Virginia fought it for all of a second before letting her teeth on display. Perhaps there was more to this ruffian behavior than she thought.

"Will that be all then, Mr. Stark?"

"That will be all… for now."

He enjoyed the rest of his scone with a look of triumph as she excused herself. Lord Banner and Lady Foster sat unnoticed, huddled together to speak amongst themselves.

"I think that was the strangest thing I have ever seen Tony do," Bruce said, "and that is saying something."

"But when you think about it, it's not quite so odd," said Jane. "Virginia Potts is still technically a lady by her name and lineage. And I don't think we needed to be here today to know that Tony Stark plays by his own rules."

Bruce couldn't deny that. Trying would only send them around in circles. He drank his tea instead, and wondered if all three of them could expect to be married soon.


End file.
